


Moon and Sky Inverted

by potterswinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterswinchesters/pseuds/potterswinchesters





	Moon and Sky Inverted

“Where to, Cas?” Dean asks, staring expectantly at the fallen angel as he leans against the Impala.

The despondency in Castiel’s eyes gives it all away. Normally, the blue of his eyes is piercing, as though it can see into Dean’s soul. They could, Dean supposes, back when he was still an angel. Now, without the grace behind them, they’re human eyes—but it’s more than that. When Metatron took Cas’s grace, he took more than his ability to see the souls behind their bodies; he took away the feeling of purpose, of importance, that Castiel felt. Dean is familiar with this particular feeling. It’s how he’d feel without hunting.

A pang of guilt overtakes Dean when Cas averts his gaze and enters the car, leaving the unanswered question hanging thickly in the air between the two men. Dean knows that Castiel has been struggling with being human, and he wishes that he hadn’t had to kick him out of the bunker. But Ezekiel had demanded it, and Sam still _needs_ Ezekiel in order to stay breathing. Besides, he had made a promise to his little brother that he would never put anything else before him…

Even as Dean continuously justifies his actions, he simply cannot feel good about them. It’s wrong that he and Sam have to keep their distance from Cas. It’s wrong that Dean has to keep lying. It’s wrong to leave Cas thinking he’s unwanted.

But Dean can’t see another option, so he remains in limbo with his emotions and truths.

Begrudgingly, he frowns and gets into the Impala as well, sighing lightly. He closes the door, but makes no move to start the car. Instead, he grits his teeth and turns to his best friend. He’s not too good at talking about feelings, but he figures that that’s what Cas needs at the moment. He reminds himself that things are different between the two of them. Cas always seems more receptive when it comes to discussing these things with Dean than he typically does with anyone else.

It’s worth a shot.

“Cas, talk to me,” Dean vocalizes, gruff and insistent. He manages to catch Castiel’s attention for a moment before he resumes staring straight ahead, at the dark, open road. “C’mon man, tell me how you’re doing,” Dean prompts, reaching over to grip Cas’s shoulder.

“I’m not certain,” the other imparts. His gaze suggests that there are a thousand and one words on the tip of his tongue. “Even after all these years, I am still finding it difficult to give names to the emotions I experience. I suppose embarrassment. Shame. Sadness as well, I suppose.”

“What happened back there? Your chick wasn’t even there when I came burstin’ in, guns blazin’, to save your ass. What happened to the date?”

Castiel’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. “I’m sensing it’s something you’d find humorous, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t laugh.”

Despite everything, Dean can’t help the small smile that graces his lips. “Okay. I promise I won’t laugh.”

He casts his friend a dubious look, but confides in him anyway. “I misunderstood everything. Nora… wasn’t asking me on a date. She only wanted me to babysit her child while she went on a date with another man.”

Dean cringes and looks away, suddenly flooded with sympathy and _something else_. “You’re disappointed. You liked her that much, huh?” he says, wetting his lips with his tongue. Inexplicably, he feels a lump threatening to form in his throat.

“What?” Cas asks, incredulous. “No, it—it isn’t about the female.”

“Really?” Dean replies with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Then what’s it about?”

The fallen angel sighs heavily, his eyes darting back and forth between Dean’s face and the road. “My newfound suffering.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Castiel drags a hand over his face and Dean watches the movement of his throat as he swallows. His lips part as though he’s waiting for the right words to find their way out. “I… miss my wings,” he divulges hesitantly. Once he gets that part out, the rest appears to flow like a river to the sea—steady and sure. “I miss my grace. I miss… everything. I’ve been on Earth for a few years and there’s so much I have never understood about it. Yet at least when I was an angel, I didn’t _need_ to understand all of it. I had accepted the fact that mankind is merely different and that there would always be certain sentiments and sensations I would never quite grasp. But now… I don’t know. Everything feels _wrong_ now. I’m not meant to be human and I’ve proven that. If I can’t even differentiating between someone asking me out and asking me to babysit, how am I supposed to live life as a human?”

Dean’s eyebrows knit together and he turns to stare out the window. He doesn’t know what to say, so when he finally does speak, he stumbles over his words. “You—you can’t think like that, Cas. It’s not gonna be like this forever. It’ll get better. You’ll learn what’s what eventually.”

“Dean,” he utters—and in that instant, Dean feels an odd yearning to capture the sound of Cas saying his name and wear it around his neck forever. “You don’t have to lie to me. It hasn’t been getting any better. It’s getting worse, and I just—I don’t belong _anywhere_. I’m not a human. I’m not an angel. I’m nothing.”

“No,” Dean protests as soon as the words escape Castiel’s mouth. He shakes his head vigorously as his hand lands on Cas’s shoulder again. He grasps it tightly, forcing Castiel to meet his eyes. “No, that’s not true. You’re not a human or an angel, but you’re not nothing. You can’t be nothing. You’re _Cas_. Weird, dorky and socially awkward, but still a force to be reckoned with. That’s what makes you who you are—not some stupid mojo and a pair of wings. And you’re important, Cas. You _are_ ,” he affirms at Castiel’s disbelieving scoff. “You helped us stop the fucking _apocalypse_. You’re important to this world. You’re important to me.”

“Dean,” Cas repeats, a broken and desperate whisper.

There is something different about his eyes. Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy Novak, shares all of his physical traits with Cas, but there had always been something different between the two. Dean had met Jimmy briefly back when he was alive, and he knows that Castiel carries himself differently. He has a distinct walk and manipulates Jimmy’s vocal cords differently, but the biggest giveaway has always been the eyes. When it was _him_ , Dean could almost see the grace behind them.

Now, he _knows_ that Castiel can’t possibly be seeing through his physical form, right down to his soul, but it feels that way for a moment. His eyes are deep and impossibly blue, and Dean swears he can still see the grace behind the fallen angel’s human eyes.

Before he even knows what’s happening, Cas is leaning closer and closer. Dean tenses up and remains frozen in place when Cas’s lips find his.

The kiss is chaste and unexpected. Dean is so shocked that he doesn’t even close his eyes; he remains still and sees Castiel’s face dizzyingly close. He knows that he should feel horror or revulsion—anything but this _want_ pooling in his stomach. This is _Cas_. His best friend. A man.

He’s not supposed to feel this way.

Castiel must sense the conflicting feelings passing through Dean’s mind, because he pulls away.

Dean forces himself to feel outraged and paints an expression on his face to show it. “ _Woah_ , man, I—um. That’s… I don’t—it’s not—we can’t—”

At Cas’s pained look, he cuts himself off.

Then there’s just silence.

“Oh,” Cas replies after a while, looking away. “Apologies. I suppose this is yet another situation I interpreted wrong.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat; even though it’s dark, Dean can tell he’s blushing everywhere. “I doubt you’d still like to drive me anywhere. I’ll just… I can walk. I’m sorry.”

He makes a move to open the car door, but before he can, Dean reaches out and grabs his arm again. “Cas, wait,” he says, gritting his teeth. When Castiel turns his gaze on him, he hesitates. He doesn’t want him to leave. Every fibre in him is screaming _don’t leave me_. “Look, I—you know this ain’t easy for me. Y’know, feelings and this whole—I don’t know.”

“You’re referring to your troubling emotional constipation,” Cas states easily, earning a nervous laugh from Dean.

“Uh, sure,” Dean says. “But—this can’t happen. I’m not—I’m not like that. You’re a guy, and I…”

“I’ve never understood humans’ problems with sexual orientation,” Castiel responds bitterly, with a thoughtful undercurrent.

“I don’t have a problem with it, I just… I—personally—I’m not… I mean, I can’t be, I…”

Cas is silent for a long while, as though he’s waiting for Dean to say something more. When he doesn’t, Cas sighs, as though he was expecting it. “Okay. I’m sorry. I should go.”

“ _No_ ,” Dean insists. “Don’t, Cas, please.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Dean says, screwing his eyes shut, “because I— _goddammit_.” Now, he’s sure that his heart has never pounded this hard in his entire life. He can hear the rush of blood in his ears and feel the pulse of the veins in his temples. He wants to kiss Cas again—he wants to do so much more than that. He wants everything. “I feel…”

“You enjoyed it,” Castiel mutters, his brows furrowing. He whispers the revelation like it’s the type of secret that has the power to bring the universe to its knees. “And you hate that.”

“I want,” Dean reveals, not sure he can manage the last word: _you_. He hopes that Cas understands. “I _want_.” In a desperate attempt to show this, his hands find Cas’s face and his fingers flutter against his jaw. He imagines feeling Cas’s lips and tongue on his neck and the roughness of his stubble chasing goosebumps down his chest. When he finds his voice again, it’s low and husky and practically resonates with longing. “I wanna try somethin’.”

Then Cas is nodding, over and over, and his eyes are already fluttering shut, and his lips are already parted in anticipation, when Dean sums up the courage to close the distance between them a second time.

He doesn’t mean to make it so desperate, but he simply can’t help himself. With a roll of his jaw, he works Cas’s mouth open and runs his tongue over Cas’s bottom lip.

Suddenly, Cas is no longer sitting and has pulled himself up to a kneeling position on his seat. When he leans towards Dean, Dean reflexively winds his arms around his waist and pulls their bodies closer. His pulse rages.

“Now’s your time to practice putting names to the things you feel. Tell me,” Dean says, his lips a hairsbreadth away from Castiel’s, “what you’re feeling right now.”

“Nervousness,” Castiel admits, mouth brushing against Dean’s as his lips form the three syllables. He lets out a shaky exhale into Dean’s space. “And a bit of fear as well, I think. But none of it is unpleasant. It isn’t the same fear as facing something that could potentially kill me. It’s… exhilarating.”

“Mhm,” Dean hums against Cas’s mouth. He nips at his bottom lip and slides his hands down until they fall on Castiel’s hips. “So I make you nervous, but in the good way. What else?”

There is a pause. “Desire,” he mutters quietly, as though it’s something to be shy about.

“Yeah?” Dean answers with a smug smirk. His hands roughly dig into Cas’s sides as he grabs his hips and pulls them against his own. They’re both hard now, and the action sends a shudder of pleasure up Dean’s spine and tugs a delicious moan from Cas’s lips. “Horny, in other words,” he observes, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s hair. “Me too.”

Cas looks about ready to pass out when Dean ruts against him once more.

“Anything else?” Dean pants, trembling with yearning.

A pair of blue eyes meets a pair of green ones. Castiel’s pupils are blown and his irises are bright and vivacious. In the dark, they look like the moon and the sky, inverted.

“Love,” responds Castiel, eyelids heavy and gaze softer than it’s ever been. “Like my heart will explode with it. With the intensity of it.”

That one leaves Dean speechless and breathless.

All he can think to do is tug Castiel closer by the collar of his shirt and kiss him harder. _I love you too_ , he thinks, the litany playing on repeat in his mind. He wishes that Cas could still hear his prayers. _God, I love you too._

“Hey, Cas,” Dean whispers, pulling back slightly, even though it hurts. “What d’ya think about movin’ this to the backseat?”

Cas leans forward, chasing Dean’s lips, but Dean places a hand on his chest to stop him. He tilts his head, appearing both confused and adorably put out. “Why would we do that, Dean? How will you be able to drive if you’re in the backseat?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Let’s try this again, in words you’ll understand… How about we move this to a motel room and break in the mattress together?” He moves forward to kiss Castiel’s neck. When he finds a tender spot, he sucks and nips at it until Cas lets out a deep groan. “You were the babysitter tonight, right? So I can be the pizza man. Do you understand _now_?”

“ _Oh_ , I— _mmm_ —yes, I understand,” Cas says as Dean slips a hand under his shirt. “Yes.”

Without warning, Dean tears away from him, starts the car and takes off down the road.

The entire time, he’s careful not to look at Castiel, because he knows that if he so much as glances at him, he’ll lose it. Cas is still breathing hard, and from the corner of his eyes Dean can see the effects his kisses have had on him. He knows what he’ll see if he turns his head: Cas’s lips, pink and swollen. His dark hair messy. His shirt unbuttoned, gaping open.

The nearest motel is supposed to be a fifteen-minute drive away, but Dean drives so fast he manages to cut the time in half. When they finally reach it and sink into the mattress together, Dean gives Cas at least one reason to savour being human.


End file.
